


Opportunity Knocks

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline receives an offer she can't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opportunity Knocks

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration from jaynedoll.

  
“Sorry, sorry, I’m late, I know.” Janey dropped into the seat on the other side of the table and scowled. “Bloody Sandra decided that five minutes before lunch-break would be a great time for one of her ‘little chats’. Apparently I need to spend less time surfing the internet, and more providing a ‘valuable service to our customers’.” The scowl deepened as Janey started rummaging around in her bag, looking for her purse.  
  
Caroline lifted her eyes to the heavens and took a sip of her coffee. “It’s fine, I haven’t been here that long myself.” She wrinkled her nose a little. “Why do you put up with that Sandra anyway? She’s obviously got it in for you.”  
  
“Because I don’t have a choice, do I?” Janey replied. She finally located her purse, and stood up again, heading for the counter. “Do you want another coffee?”  
  
Caroline shook her head, and then watched as Janey made her way over to the counter, selecting a salad from the chiller cabinet, and ordering a skinny latte and a glass of tap water to go with it.  
  
“And besides,” Janey said as she sat down again a few moments later and continued as if there’d been no break in the conversation, “my Mum would kill me if I walked out of my job just because I don’t like my boss. She’d insist I started doing something really crap just so I could carry on paying the rent.”  
  
Feeling briefly superior, Caroline resisted the urge to smirk in her friend’s face. At least she wasn’t still living with her parents. Her job might not pay that much more than Janey’s, but she _could_ afford her own place. The fact that it was the size of a shoebox was neither here nor there – it was still  hers.  
  
“Anyway,” Janey said, as she stirred enough sugar into her coffee to completely negate the fact that it was made with skim milk, and added enough dressing to her salad to almost drown it, “how are things in the wonderful world of fashion?”  
  
The fledgling smirk died in an instant, and Caroline narrowed her eyes at Janey, trying to decide if she was being mocked or not. She might have her coveted independence, but her actual job was still a bit of a sore spot with her. Three years studying fashion at university, and what had it got her? A sales assistant position at Monsoon, that was what. Stocking clothes racks and manning the fitting rooms wasn’t exactly one of the more thrilling sides of the fashion industry. Still, at least she got a discount on the clothes.  
  
“Fine, it’s fine,” she replied brightly, determined not to give Janey an ounce of ammunition. “In fact, I might be getting a promotion soon.” A lie, but the other woman wasn’t to know that. And when no promotion materialised, Caroline could just blame it on ‘management’. There was nothing guaranteed to win Janey’s sympathy like being screwed over by your superiors.  
  
“Wish I could work in fashion,” mumbled Janey, around a mouthful of salad. “That call centre is going to drive me mental before long. Although I suppose I could then plead insanity as my reasoning for murdering bloody Sandra.”  
  
Caroline nodded. “She’s such a cow,” she sympathised.  
  
Janey’s expression brightened suddenly. “Hey, if you get this promotion, maybe I could apply for your old job. You could even put in a good word for me.”  
  
“Sure,” Caroline agreed, vowing that even if a real promotion came along she would do no such thing. A person could have too much of a good thing, after all.  
  
Janey’s moaning and a discussion about whether the guy behind the counter was fit or not (Caroline thought not, Janey reckoned she could be persuaded) took up the rest of lunchtime, until Janey glanced at her phone and swore suddenly.  
  
“Shit, is that the time? I should have been back five minutes ago. Sandra’s going to kill me. She’ll make sure I get given all the difficult customers as punishment.”  
  
She slurped down the last couple of mouthfuls of her water, threw her phone and purse back into her bag, and stood up in a hurry.  
  
“We still on for Saturday night? Drinks at Da Vinci’s, yeah?”  
  
“Absolutely,” replied Caroline. “Wouldn’t miss it.”  
  
“Great. See you then!” And then Janey was gone.  
  
Caroline stayed sitting after her friend had left, sipping at her cappuccino and wishing she’d taken up Janey’s offer of a refill – the drink was almost cold, and rather unpleasant on her tongue now. But she had five minutes of her own lunch-break left, and she was damn well going make the most of them. Monsoon was only round the corner – it would take all of thirty seconds to walk back.  
  
But as she sat, contemplating an exciting afternoon of stock-checking, and maybe a stint on the till, an involuntary shiver made its way down Caroline’s spine. She suddenly felt like someone was watching her. Watching her intently.  
  
Twisting in her seat, Caroline glanced round at the other occupants of the coffee shop. The guy behind the counter (definitely not fit) had his back to her, busy with the panini machine. There was a couple at a table in the corner, sipping espressos and looking far too involved in their own conversation to be paying attention to anyone else. A mother was trying to stop her son getting more of his chocolate muffin on his face than in his mouth. And by the window a weasely-looking guy in a suit was checking his phone, a cup of tea apparently forgotten on the table in front of him.  
  
None of them were looking at Caroline, and she shrugged a little, shaking the eerie feeling away. She was just imagining things.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
But the odd sensation of being watched persisted throughout the rest of the week. There were times when she was in the shop after hours, cashing up or tidying or something, and was sure she felt eyes on her. But every time she turned to look out of the big plate glass windows that fronted the street, there was no one there. And when she was at the bus stop in the morning or the afternoon, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being observed. Which was ridiculous, as the bus stop was always crowded at those times of day, with at least twenty other people standing and waiting. Not to mention all the others simply passing by on the pavement. It was entirely likely that someone was looking at her on those occasions. Probably because she was the most attractive person there by a country mile.  
  
Firmly she told herself to stop being stupid, and get over it. And by the time Saturday rolled round, she almost had. The working week was over, after all, and the thought of the weekend always perked her up. It was time to have some fun and enjoy herself.  
  
“Get some drinks in, will you? I’m bursting for the loo.” Janey was hurrying away before Caroline could protest that it wasn’t her turn, and Caroline glared at her retreating back for a few seconds before giving in and turning to make her way to the bar.  
  
Da Vinci’s wasn’t that crowded, even though it was Saturday night. Although that said less about its popularity, and more about the type of clientele it attracted. Caroline liked it precisely because it wasn’t full of drunken yobbos – she’d long since stopped thinking that a dingy pub or a packed club were the pinnacle of weekend entertainment.  
  
Somewhere like Da Vinci’s was much more suitable for a classy woman like her.  
  
Of course, class didn’t come cheap. In reality, Da Vinci’s prices were a little more than both Caroline or Janey could afford on their salaries. Still, that had never stopped Caroline. There were always ways around such problems.  
  
Caroline hopped up on one of the chrome and black leather bar stools, and looked along the length of the bar. Both the bar staff were currently busy with other customers, but Caroline didn’t mind. She was in no rush.  
  
“I haven’t seen you in here before,” said a voice beside her.  
  
Then you can’t have been looking, Caroline thought, although she didn’t say it aloud. As chat-up lines went, it wasn’t the most pathetic one she’d ever heard, but it was fairly close.  
  
She looked at the guy who’d spoken, sitting on the stool next to her, assessing him quickly. Not much to look at, she decided. He had a thin face with sharp features, and his hair was already thinning a little on top, despite the fact that he was still in his thirties. He was wearing a suit, although Caroline could tell at a glance that it wasn’t nearly as expensive as any of the clothes most of the other men in the room were wearing, and frankly, his blue and red striped tie made him look like some third-rate civil servant. He also seemed a little familiar to her, although she couldn’t place him. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to shop in Monsoon, and she would have remembered meeting him somewhere else.  
  
But his wallet, which was lying on the bar, didn’t look too unhealthy, and Caroline decided not to write him off straight away. She wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity, after all.  
  
“We’ve probably just missed each other,” she replied, smiling at the guy and tossing her hair a little. “Unluckily for us.”  
  
“Very unlucky,” the guy agreed. “Can I buy you a drink?”  
  
“Champagne cocktail, please,” said Caroline promptly. It was her little test – the reaction to the most expensive drink on the menu could tell you a lot about man.  
  
But this one didn’t bat an eyelid. He immediately caught the attention of the one of the bar staff, and ordered the cocktail, plus a drink for himself.  
  
“Oh, but there’s my fr…” Caroline started to add, and then stopped. It wasn’t Caroline’s fault that Janey had chosen now to go and powder her nose.  
  
“Yes?” the guy asked, looking at her expectantly.  
  
“Oh, nothing. Forget I said anything.”  
  
The guy smiled and tilted his glass. “Cheers.”  
  
“Cheers,” Caroline echoed, and took a sip of her cocktail.  
  
“So,” the guy continued. “Do you come here often?”  
  
“Not as often as I’d like,” Caroline replied, and then cursed herself for letting that slip.  
  
“Yes…” The guy pulled a wry face. “It is a little pricey in here, isn’t it.”  
  
“It’s got nothing to do with that.” Caroline vowed to make her cocktail last, as she was beginning to suspect she wouldn’t be getting another one.  
  
“Now, now, Miss Steel, let’s not pretend, shall we?”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re…wait a minute, how do you know my name?”  
  
“I know a lot of things about you, Caroline.” The guy smiled, not very pleasantly, and Caroline suddenly started to feel nervous. She glanced around quickly, hoping to spot Janey on her way back from the loo. But her friend was still conspicuously absent.  
  
Trying not to let her nerves show, Caroline stared defiantly back at the man sitting next to her. After all, it wasn’t like he could actually do anything to her, not with so many witnesses around.  
  
“Since you know my name, I think it’s only fair I should know yours,” she said icily.  
  
“Oliver Leek,” the guy replied promptly. “Pleased to meet you.”  
  
“So, what sort of things do you know about me?” Caroline demanded, pointedly not returning the sentiment.  
  
Oliver Leek didn’t seem at all perturbed by her anger. He merely took a mouthful of his drink, and then answered her question.  
  
“Let’s see, I know you’re an only child and your parents divorced when you were ten. I know you and your mother didn’t have much money growing up, but you still managed to pay your way through university, studying a fashion course that has ultimately got you nowhere. I know you’re kidding yourself that your current job will lead to ‘better things’, and although you pretend to your friend that your life is great, it’s really not. I know…”  
  
Caroline suddenly realised where she’d seen the guy before. “You were in the coffee shop with other day,” she interrupted him. “When I was in there with Janey.” Suddenly, the uncomfortable feeling she’d been having all week made a lot more sense. “Have you been following me around?”  
  
“I needed to make sure you were the right candidate, Caroline,” replied Oliver Leek. “I need someone in the right situation. Basically, someone who wants more out of life and who would be willing to do what it takes to get it.”  
  
“And you’re going help me get ‘more out of life’, are you?” Caroline said. She looked Oliver Leek up and down, allowing a hint of disdain to seep into her expression. “I’m guessing you’d want something in return, as well?”  
  
“Nothing like what you’re imagining, I can assure you. You’re an attractive woman, Caroline, but our arrangement would be strictly business. I have a little job I need doing, and in return I would pay you a substantial amount of money. Not to mention that with a few words in the right ears, I might be able to assist you in your chosen career.”  
  
“You know people in the fashion industry?” Caroline asked disbelievingly.  
  
“Not personally, of course,” Oliver Leek replied. “But I have contacts. Friends of friends, you know the sort of thing.” He gave her a look that was as appraising as the one she’d given him. “You’re just the kind of person I’ve been looking for, Miss Steel, and I really think we can help each other out.”  
  
Caroline narrowed her eyes. “It’s nothing illegal, is it?” she asked. “Because I won’t do anything like that, no matter what you’re promising.”  
  
Oliver Leek smiled, reminding Caroline uncomfortably of a predator that has cornered its prey. Despite his unassuming appearance, she suddenly knew this man could be very, very dangerous, if he chose.  
  
But at the same time, she couldn’t deny she was attracted by his offer. She was sick and tired of the rut she seemed to have ended up stuck in, and the idea that she might finally be able to make something of herself was very tempting.  
  
“I’m listening,” she said cautiously.  
  
Oliver Leek’s smiled widened. “Good, I knew you’d see things my way.” He leaned a little closer, and Caroline had to resist the urge to draw away. “First things first - there’s a young man called Connor Temple…”


End file.
